The Love I Could Never Confess

I had never looked at a girl with such feelings before. My heart was pure, my intentions sincere. Love was never something I sought, nor did I ever believe it would find me. But fate had its own plans.

It all started at my cousin’s wedding—three days of endless celebrations. The Mehndi night was filled with music and laughter, the Baraat with grandeur, and the Walima with bittersweet farewells. Among the sea of guests, she was just another face at first. Someone I barely noticed. But without realizing it, my heart started drifting toward her.

I didn’t even know her name. I only knew her by a single letter—S. It was enough to make my heart race. She wasn’t the most talkative or the most outgoing, yet there was something about her that captured my soul. A silent grace, an unspoken depth in her eyes.

I tried to reason with myself. She is someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, and perhaps,

destined love. I had no right to let my heart wander. But the more I tried to resist, the deeper I fell.

At first, I thought it was just admiration. But soon, it became more than that. Every time she walked into the room, my eyes searched for her, my heart betrayed me by skipping a beat. I observed her from afar, never daring to approach her, never daring to speak.

One night, overwhelmed by my emotions, I turned to Allah. I prayed, "Oh Allah, You are the one who places love in hearts. If she is not meant for me, remove this feeling from my heart. But if this is something pure, if this is something real, then guide me."

But love does not leave easily. It lingers, even when unwelcomed.

The final day arrived. The Walima. The last chance to see her before she disappeared from my life forever. As the event neared its end, I looked at her one last time. And to my surprise, she looked back.

It was only for a second, but in that moment, our eyes spoke what our lips never could. My heart pounded in my chest, my mind spinning with words I longed to say. I wanted to tell her everything—how she had unknowingly taken a place in my heart, how I wished for time to stop in that moment.

But I lacked the courage.

She was leaving. My heart burned with an ache I had never known before. I followed her steps from a distance, watching as she walked away, unaware that someone was looking at her with the purest of feelings.

I wanted to ask someone about her, to know more than just the letter ‘S.’ But what right did I have? I was just a silent admirer, an unknown presence in her world.

And then, she was gone.

Days passed. Then weeks. But the thought of her wouldn’t leave me. Her face, her presence, the way she looked back at me—it all kept replaying in my mind like a scene I wished to rewrite.

For the first time in my life, I spoke to my mother about my feelings. I had never hidden anything from my parents, and I wasn’t about to start now. I told her everything, hoping for a miracle, for a way to find her.

My mother listened patiently. She understood the depth of my emotions, but what could she do? She didn’t know who S was either. There was no way to find her.

"Some things are not meant to be, my son," she said gently. "And some love stories remain incomplete, not because they were not beautiful, but because they were never meant to have an ending."

Her words settled deep into my heart. I realized then that love does not always mean possession. Sometimes, love is about silent prayers and unspoken goodbyes.

Perhaps she was never meant to be mine.

Perhaps I was destined to love her in silence.

Or perhaps, if destiny wills, our paths may cross again.

For now, all I have is her memory—a beautiful pain, a love I could never confess.